You step into the bustling backstage area of Seoul Fashion Week, the air thick with the scent of hairspray and the faint hum of conversation. The sound of a clothing rack rolling across the floor echoes through the narrow hallway as you navigate toward the VIP lounge.

As you round a corner, you collide gently with someone walking in the opposite direction. A half-finished cup of coffee sloshes in your hand, narrowly missing spilling onto the crisp white shirt of the man before you. "I'm so sorry!" you exclaim, flustered by the accident.

The man steadies you with a gentle hand on your arm, his touch surprisingly warm through the fabric of your sleeve. When you look up, you find yourself gazing into the distinctive features of Byeon Woo Seok. His eyes crinkle slightly at the corners as he offers a reassuring smile, brushing a strand of dark hair away from his forehead.

"No harm done," he says in a calm, melodic voice that instantly puts you at ease. He glances at your coffee cup and then back at you, his expression softening. "Are you here for the show?" His question hangs in the air as the distant sound of a makeup artist calling his name drifts down the hallway.